Recovering
by ladybirdington
Summary: Time and love heal all wounds. M for naughty bits.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-men. I do own the action figures though. Well, I mean they're officially my nephew's, but they stay at my house.

A/N: This may show up as a new story, because I replaced all the chapters when I reworked it. Sorry if that fouled anyone up. There is a new chapter that I posted along with all my changes, though, so give it a read through.

Recovering

Prologue

Rogue knew Jean was leaving before even Jean knew. When Logan stopped keeping up the pretense of coming home to check on her, she knew it was only a matter of time. Jean might have powerful mental capabilities, but at the end of the day she was still a woman. Logan excelled in that area.

Rogue feared that the eventual break up of Scott Summers and Jean Grey might cause a rip in the space-time continuum, but in reality, all it did was fuel some rather wild gossip.

"I heard that Scott kicked Jean out, she didn't leave him."

"Well I saw Jean throw her engagement ring at him before she left."

In truth, the pair had slipped away quietly, leaving a note and two broken hearts behind. When Jubilee first told Rogue the rumors, she brushed them aside as gossip. Just to make sure, she had gone to Logan's room to see him. When he hadn't answered the door, she had opened it only to find the room empty. She was incredulous. Then furious. Then devastated.

But she never cried over him.

A few days after the pair left, she came into her physics class with the professor and found a scribbled note left under her chair from the math class before. It read: "(J+S)+L(J+L)-S." It had taken her a moment to actually decipher what it meant, and when she did, she was angered at how lightly everyone was viewing the situation. She was also somewhat miffed by the fact that her initial had been excluded from the equation.

Then she realized why. She wasn't a variable; she didn't count. In the eyes of the school, she was never competition, didn't stand a chance against Jean. She crumpled up the note and tossed it in the trash, and along with it went her illusions of worth in the eyes of the man who promised to protect her. She turned to her studies for distraction, and buried herself in work.

Jean had been responsible for much more than anyone realized, and after she left, the rest of the faculty felt the added pressure of her responsibilities. Charles had used the doctor's absence as reason to call in a favor on an old friend. Three weeks later, a furry blue giant of a man arrived at the mansion to take over Jean's old position, scaring the poor kid who answered the door half to death.

Rogue, aware of the stress on everyone, tried to be useful to her teachers when she could. After weeks of watching the poor girl run around looking for tasks to do, Ororo offered a suggestion.

"Scott's the only one of us who has a lot to handle, why don't you help him out? Maybe you could act as his student teacher?"

The two were reluctant to try it out. Scott just wanted to be left alone, and Rogue wanted to avoid the tangible misery he dragged around with him. But Scott had taken over Jean's science classes in addition to his own mechanics, literature, and Gym classes. Not even the Fearless Leader could kid himself about so much work. So after an awkward few weeks of trying to figure out a routine, they settled into a schedule that worked for both of them. Scott kept teaching and Rogue kept on top of his paperwork. After a while, neither of them seemed to mind the companionship the arrangement offered and they became fast friends.

Rogue finished high school as Scott's sidekick, and with his help aced the SATs. When it came time to choose between saving the world on weekends and heading off to college, she decided on academic advancement. She assured Xavier that she would return to the X-men, but that college was a lifelong dream she wasn't willing to give up.

She was accepted, early acceptance, to NYU, planning to major in music and get certified to teach. She told Xavier to look on the bright side, that they would finally have a long-desired music teacher when she got back. He was still sad to see her go. Rogue had been a great comfort to him after Jean had left, and in fact, had nearly filled the gap in his heart that his first student had created.

No one would miss Rogue more than Scott. Under his guidance, she had flourished and the two had become close. Though neither spoke of it aloud, there had grown something between them that was more than what should transpire between a teacher and his pupil. Neither crossed the line, but it was toed often. To everyone else, it seemed innocent enough, and it was, but Scott found himself thinking more and more about her. As innocent as thing were, he was relieved when she graduated.

Exactly six months after Jean left was the anniversary of the day he proposed to her. After watching him wander out of his room only for food, and spend the rest of the day in his room, Rogue decided to do something. Later that night, she borrowed a bottle of the professor's best tequila and knocked on his door. When he answered in his pajamas, looking sleep mussed and sad, she pushed past him into the room and slammed the bottle and shooters on his coffee table.

She turned angrily with her hands on her hips. "Are you done yet?

He looked confused and tired. "What?"

"With the Scott and Jean Anniversary Pity Party?"

"Rogue, please stop." His pleading look almost broke her, but she knew she had to be strong.

"She left you, Scott. She's gone. Are you going to keep moping around for the rest of your life? Think about it all the time until you spiral into depression?" He looked at her angrily, but she kept pushing. "You have to be strong for this school. Xavier needs you. We all need you. Are you going to abandon us so you can wallow in misery?" She took a step closer, "Or are you going to get completely sloshed with me, wake up with a splitting headache and no recollection of what happened tonight, and get on with your life?"

He pursed his lips and crossed his arms over his chest. "You've got a lot of nerve. You know that?"

She shrugged looking away. "So I've been told."

He stood, glaring at her through ruby quartz, before biting out an angry "Pour." She nodded and did as she was told.

Many, many shots later, they sat laughing about nothing on a hard floor they couldn't really feel. Even more shots later, they were tangled up and asleep on his couch, but not romantically so. In the morning, Rogue woke up to pins and needles all along her arm, and found it stuck under Scott's torso. Yanking her arm free while still mostly asleep proved too much for her, and she ended up on the floor with a loud 'thump.'

Scott sat up quickly, which didn't agree with his dehydrated brain. He very comically attempted to ask if she was alright, while groaning in pain, which just resulted in a series of unintelligible grunts. Which made Rogue crack up. Which made Scott angry. Which made Rogue laugh harder.

"Shut up."

"Oh sugah. You look like death warmed over." She giggled and grazed the back of her gloved hand against his cheek affectionately. "Come on. Get up."

He whined, but didn't protest as she led him to his bed and tucked him in. He was snoring again in no time, and Rogue sat next to him looking very maternal but feeling far from it. She pulled his blanket up over his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head, where his hair protected him from her. She left, but not before leaving a bottle of water on his nightstand.

After that, things changed between them. Rogue knew he was lonely, and tried to be there for him. She touched him more throughout the day, smiled brightly when she saw him. Little things that she did to try to keep him connected to the present and keep his mind out of the past. For his part, he did try. He laughed for her and obliged her when she tried to drag him to unnecessary social engagements like, say, dinner. He appreciated that she cared enough to keep an eye on him, and so for her sake, he pretended to feel better.

After a while he didn't have to pretend so hard.


	2. Chapter 1

One could describe what Scott and Rogue did as dating, but Scott and Rogue would not call it that. If pressed, Rogue would claim that they were good friends, maybe even best. If pressed, Scott would tell you to mind your own business.

They did go out a lot. To the city, to dinner, to movies. It wasn't dating, Rogue told herself, it was helping Scott get back on his feet.

In June, a few weeks after the tequila incident, Scott surprised Rogue with a fake id for her eighteenth birthday.

"Scott Summers! I can't possibly think of a more inappropriate gift that you could have given me."

"Look. I used your picture and first name, so you should have no problem using it. You can scan it in New York, other than that I have no guarantees. And I'm taking you out for a test run tonight."

In absolute disbelief, she had just laughed and agreed, and gone looking for something to wear.

That night in her room, clothes were scattered everywhere. Music played and she sang along as she put on lipstick and gave herself a once over. They were taking the bike, so she had jeans on, with heels and a sexy black top that accentuated all of her positives. She grudgingly yanked on her gloves, but refused to cover up more than that. She would stay out of crowds, but refused to dress like an Eskimo for the sake of "just in case." Her hair was down and fell in waves around her face. She had to admit, she looked pretty hot. With one last glance over she grabbed her leather jacket and wristlet and went downstairs to meet Scott.

Scott was waiting on his bike when she came outside. He raised an eyebrow and grinned when he saw her, but only said "You look good." She gave him a coy little smile and hopped on the back of the bike.

He took her to a cozy little bar in Manhattan. It wasn't too crowded which she was thankful for, since it meant less drunk idiots trying to touch her.

They sat at the bar, drank and talked. They talked about which Bronte sister they liked better and when he would teach her to drive a manual transmission. The level of conversation disintegrated after a number of drinks, and eventually they were trying to decide who was hotter, Ororo or Xavier. Scott stopped drinking early so he could drive, but Marie maintained a very pleasant level of intoxication for the night.

"Listen, mister," she slurred, "you better not expect anything more than a good night kiss, just because you got me all this, hmmm wonderful alcohol."

He laughed. "I would never presume, miss."

When they finally did leave, Scott was worried that Marie would topple off his bike in her state, but she had absolutely no trouble holding on to him. He smelled great, she decided during the drive, like pure masculinity. Somewhere far in the recesses of her mind she knew she should not be feeling so deliciously warm because Scott Summer was between her legs, but she couldn't help it.

They drove home without incident, but once in the garage, she had a little difficulty dismounting. She stumbled and Scott reached out and grabbed her, jumping off the bike and trying to steady her.

"Woah, babe, are you ok?"

But she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at his hand, wrapped around her arm. Above her long, black silk gloves. With no protection. He looked too, but didn't stop touching her. When she finally looked up, his jaw was slack and his brow furrowed.

"What…"

She cut him off with her lips, with a tentative kiss. He braced himself against the pull that never came. Mere seconds later she pulled back and looked at him.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded and that was all the permission she needed. She desperately sought him out, plunging her fingers into his soft hair and pulling him in again. She kissed him with a frightening thirst. He overcame his shock rather quickly as well. He blindly pushed her towards the wall a few feet away, where he roughly pinned her back. She moaned in response but kept kissing him. Her tongue slid across his and she shivered. He stood flush against her, caught between needing to end this and having to touch her.

She pulled back after a moment to take a breath and rested her head back against the cold cement. He chuckled. "Happy Birthday."

She giggled. "Oh nooooo." She groaned and covered her face. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey." He pulled her hand away and made her look at him by lifting her chin with his finger. "You never have to apologize for kissing like that."

She bit her lip and glanced away, embarrassed. He grabbed her hand and silently led her through the sleeping mansion. When they got to her room, she tried to lead him inside, but he resisted.

"Rogue. You're drunk."

"Ah am not." She protested a little too loudly.

He grinned and touched her cheek with his bare hand. "You are. You twang when you drink." He sighed. "Please don't make me have to say no to you."

She wrapped her arms around his waist, under his shirt and felt him shiver. "Oh Scott. Such a gentleman." She lightly raked her fingernail down his back. "Fine, my honor stays intact tonight! But as the birthday girl," she pulled him closer, "I demand a goodnight kiss."

"Rogue." He tried to make it sound like a warning, but the way she was looking at him, touching him, it became a plea. He kissed her once. Softly. Then she smiled a secret little smile and said goodnight, leaving him alone in the hall.

Sleep was a long time in coming for him that night.

xXx

The next morning, Rogue was awoken by a rather cruelly placed sunbeam in her eyes. She sat up slowly and whimpered at the heaviness of her head. On her nightstand, there was bottle of water with a smiley face and "drink me" drawn on in sharpie. She smiled as much as she could considering her massive headache, and drank some water.

She wandered downstairs in search of food, but only found beer in the fridge. She went into the living room to sit down a spell.

Scott was there, socked feet propped up on the coffee table, a hot cup of tea in one hand, a copy of Macbeth in the other, looking very Saturday appropriate. She plunked down next to him and grabbed the paper.

"Good Morning, Sunshine."

"What the hell did I drink last night?"

He looked at her, alarmed. "You don't remember?"

She rolled her eyes. "Oh I remember last night just fine, Scott. I just lost count of my alcohol intake somewhere along the way."

"Are you okay?"

She laughed. "Shouldn't I be asking you that? I kissed you."

"Yes"

"With no…barrier."

"Yes."

"And you kissed me back."

"You didn't put up much of a fight," he grinned.

"Scott! It's not funny! I could have killed you!"

"Rogue, your work with Xavier may be finally paying off. Control may be frightening, but last night was a huge advancement in your progress." He nudged her gently and smiled. "Kissing me was just an added bonus."

She rolled her eyes at that, but her flushed cheeks gave her away. "I'm putting off dealing with this. Today is not a day to worry."

He shrugged and went back to reading with a low chuckle. "Fine with me."

Rogue grabbed the paper and took a swig of her beer.

Without looking at her, he mumbled, "Careful. You get slutty when you drink." She laughed and slapped his knee playfully.

They didn't speak of that night for a long time. The two settled into a comfortable closeness that lasted the summer. As August dwindled away and Rogue started packing for college, the two spent all their time together. Long, winding bike rides, picnics in grassy fields, walks through the forest: all savored and drawn out. Rogue knew college didn't mean a permanent goodbye, but she would certainly miss him.

Then, on an otherwise uneventful day, everything turned upside down.

xXx

It happened after dinner one Friday night after the students had gone about doing whatever they had planned that night. The teachers and Rogue were left at the table, chatting about nothing in particular when Rogue noticed the professor with a far off look in his eyes. She put her gloved hand on his arm and gave him a concerned look.

He smiled at her, "I'm alright Rogue. Everyone, Jean has just contacted me telepathically. It seems as if she and Logan are planning on visiting."

Scott's eyes snapped to Rogue, who had turned very pale. Ororo looked at the two across from her, worried at their reactions. She opened her mouth to speak, but Scott interrupted.

"When?" He asked coldly.

"Tonight," Charles answered carefully. He wasn't sure how they would react.

"Great. Just great. How nice for us." Rogue bit out. She got up abruptly and left the table.

Hank, somewhat oblivious to the situation surrounding the pair returning that night observed, "Well, I finally get to meet the famous Wolverine."

"Trust me Hank, you'd be better off not," Scott bit out, and left in search of Rogue.

xXx

Scott came in and sat down on her bed. He ran his hands through her hair and sighed. "Talk to me?"

When she sat up, he expected her to be tear soaked and upset. Instead, she just looked furious. "Why can't they just stay away? What the hell do they think they're doing strolling back into our lives like it's their right?"

"You know as well as I do that neither one of them considers anyone else's feelings when making decisions."

"I don't want to see him. Oh God, or her!" She buried her head back in pillow and groaned in frustration.

He sighed and was silent for a while, stroking her hair and thinking "Well, what do you say we run away?"

She rolled her eyes. "Be serious, Scott."

"No, really. We leave right now, we go somewhere else for the weekend. We'll relax, plan our strategy, hang out, and be back in time for classes on Monday morning."

Rogue thought it over for about a nanosecond.

"Would the professor be ok with it?"

"If not, we'll still go, and risk his anger when we get back. Come on, neither of us want to be here when they are. Let them sweat it out for the weekend."

Rogue smiled. "Then let's get out of here!" She jumped up and grabbed a duffel from her closet. She flew around the room gathering things to take. She paused only long enough to tell a bemused Scott to hurry up and go get ready.


	3. Chapter 2

Less than a half hour later, the two were packing up Scott's red mustang and saying goodbye to Ororo.

"What should I tell them when they get here?" She asked as she gave Rogue a final hug.

She shrugged, "tell them we eloped for all I care, just don't tell them where we really are."

"I second that. But in case you need to reach us, here's the number for where we'll be. It's not too far."

"We'll be back on Sunday, but I'll call and check in. Bye 'Ro!"

"Have fun you guys!" And they were gone.

Rogue thought they passed Logan and Jean on their way out, but she may have just been being paranoid. It was a warm night, and Scott had left the top down. With the wind in her hair and the radio up loud on a local rock station, it was looking to be a peaceful ride.

"So where are we going?"

"You'll see. You're going to love it."

Figuring that was all the information she'd get out of him, she went back to brooding over the situation.

She wondered why they would risk opening new wounds by coming back. It could be that one or both of them were unhappy. That wouldn't be such an unusual outcome, she couldn't imagine the two of them living happily ever after. Logan wasn't a happily ever after type guy, and Jean wasn't a woman who could hold his attention very long. Rogue knew. The remnants of Logan in her head told her Logan wasn't the settling down type. And Jean seemed too high maintenance to traverse the Canadian wilderness with Logan for very long.

Rogue glanced over at Scott, who was as lost in thought as she. She was suddenly nervous. What if Jean was back for Scott? What if she realized what a mistake she had made?

The thought made Rogue uneasy. Clearly, where men were concerned, she couldn't compete with Jean. She certainly couldn't hold Logan's attention while Jean was around. If Jean came back begging Scott's forgiveness, what would happen to what she and Scott had?

They did have something, she and Scott. Maybe it paled in comparison to the epic love of Jean and Scott, but that hadn't exactly gone as planned. She was falling in love with Scott, and she was sure he felt something for her. At the very least they were friends. Good friends. If nothing else, Rogue would fight for that.

"She must have been crazy." She finally said aloud.

"Who?" Scott asked, puzzled.

"Jean. To have left you for him."

He sighed, and reached over and grabbed her hand. "Ditto."

They spent the rest of the ride in companionable silence.

xXx

When they finally arrived in some small town an hour of so later, Scott pulled into the driveway of an old Victorian building. The sign said that they had come to the New York Riverside B&B.

"This place is beautiful! Have you stayed here before?"

"Yea, I come here a lot. My aunt owns this place, so I try to visit her as often as I can."

"Ah, the mysterious occasional disappearances of Scott Summers explained! At least I know that you aren't dealing drugs on the side for spare cash."

"Cute." He popped the trunk open and grabbed their bags. "No, I've just been here. It's so relaxing, the view of the river is beautiful, and the town is so untouched by the city. They actually have businesses that have been in families for generations, and there's no crime, no pollution, no noise. It's the perfect place to get away to."

"Sounds wonderful, you'll have to show me around tomorrow." They made their way up the front steps and into the front room. A string of bells announced their entrance, and a woman of about fifty looked up from the front desk and smiled.

"Scott! It's so good to see you! I wasn't expecting you until next weekend!"

"Sudden change in plans. Aunt Cass, I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine..."

"Marie. It's a pleasure to meet you ma'am."

"Welcome Marie, it's so good to have you visit."

"We're looking for a place to stay. Can you help us out?" Scott caught her eye and gave her a questioning look. She gave him a tiny shrug and looked back to the woman.

"Well hun, we're pretty full up tonight. Let me check what rooms are open." She went behind the front desk and opened the ledger. "Let's see. It looks like tonight we only have one double left, is that ok?"

Scott opened his mouth to protest, it was obvious that there were several keys left on the rack behind her, but Rogue put her hand on his arm and assured the woman that it would be fine.

Cass showed the two up to their room. "We'll have to chat more tomorrow, Marie, but you two must be tired from the drive. Bye for now!" With a wink to her nephew Cass was off, leaving the couple alone.

Still chuckling, Rogue switched on a lamp and dropped her stuff on the nearest bed. "I love your aunt."

"I don't know what got into her."

"I do. She's been watching you come up here month after month alone, worrying that you wouldn't be okay after Jean left. Now finally you bring a girl. I would encourage it too. Anyway, I'd rather stay in the same room with you. We came away to hang out together, what would be the point of sleeping in two separate rooms?"

"I guess you're right, but it was still presumptuous of her."

"Maybe we shouldn't tell her I'm an ex-student at the institute."

"Good idea."

"Come on," she said as she took his bags from him and put them on his bed, "Unpack, and get comfy. Then we'll talk."

They went about getting ready for bed, even though it was only 9:00 pm, and a while later they were both lying on Rogue's bed, in flannel and cotton, staring up at the ceiling.

"You told Cass your real name."

"Yeah. 'I'd like you to meet my friend Rogue' didn't seem to fit the occasion."

"But no one knows your real name."

"You do. I always titled my English papers with Marie. Rogue is my...alter ego, I guess. I need her at the mansion. It still isn't really home yet."

Scott didn't say anything. She finally spoke again.

"I told Logan my real name when I first met him. Charles knows it for legal reasons." She took a deep breath. "You should...I mean, I'd like you to use it."

"Really?"

"Scott, you're my best friend, and the only person at the mansion I trust completely. I think you of all people have a right to use my real name."

He turned and gave her a brilliant smile. "Thanks, Marie."

"No problem, Summers." She replied.

He sighed, "Not to dampen the mood or anything, but maybe we should talk about what we're going to do come Sunday."

"I say we adopt a plan of complete avoidance. There is no problem if we don't speak to them."

He laughed. "Or, I was thinking, peace. Not exactly forgiveness, but a 'I've moved on and I don't think about you anymore' attitude."

"Sounds good. And pretty close to the truth."

"Yeah. We've moved on, right?"

"I think so. Neither of us is wallowing in self pity anymore," she gave him a pointed look, "and besides the fact that we ran like chickens from them, I'd say we're living fairly normal lives."

Scott was silent for a while. Finally he asked, "If he wanted you, would you take him?"

"He'd have to make a very convincing argument to even get me to consider it. But even if he told me everything I wanted to here, I'd never be able to trust him again. Besides, I'm stronger than I was when he left. I don't need him."

Scott nodded. "I'd hoped you'd say that, because there is a real possibility that they're over and that's why they're coming back. He may shift his attentions to you, and I don't want you getting hurt."

"Well what about you, would you forgive her?"

"Forgive her, yes. Take her back?"

Marie held her breath waiting for his reply. She didn't want him to even consider it. She wasn't sure they could stay close if he was back with Jean.

"I could never be with her again. I could never...not knowing that she and Logan...no. I couldn't. I won't. It's just not a possibility." His voice was raw with anger, and she wanted to soothe him. She turned and held him, and he held onto her like a life raft.

"We'll be fine. We're gonna be fine." She said into his chest, rubbing gentle circles into his back.

They fell asleep like that, with heavy hearts, lightened by one another's closeness.

xXx

Early the next morning, Scott woke up to find Marie nestled into his side. He smiled and shifted so he could see her better. She looked so peaceful that he hoped she would stay asleep for a while.

He thought about his place in her life. The way things were now, as her best friend, was hard for him.

But did he love her? Had he loved Jean? If love is measured by affection and caring, then he had certainly loved Jean. But with Marie, what he felt was so much different than what he had ever felt before.

She stirred in her sleep and her gloved hand drifted to his neck. And what had happened with that kiss? Was it the alcohol that had dulled her senses and mutation, or had she found a way to control it? The prospect of having to get Marie drunk every time they wanted to touch was an interesting one, but not very practical. He hoped that they could have a repeat performance somehow. Everything about their relationship had been comfortable, and it seemed intimacy would be the same way. There had been no awkwardness, no fumbling, only the two of them, easing into each other's lives.

She awoke with a yawn, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and looking confused for a moment, but finally realizing where she was, she smiled and held him tighter to her.

"Sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you," she let her hand drift down and rest on his stomach. "And to think you were worried about staying in the same room."

"Well, I'll admit I never imagined waking up in bed with you."

"No? That's disappointing." She gave him a pout and even behind his ruby glasses she could feel him rolling his eyes at her.

"So what's on the agenda today?" She asked.

"I was thinking we could walk around town, ending around lunch, at which time I introduce you to Frank, the only man I trust to make a good pizza. Of course, I wouldn't object to spending the day in bed."

"You can't wet a girl's appetite with great pizza and then expect her to stay in bed! Let's go!" She moved to get up but Scott held her down.

"Come on, five more minutes?"

She relented, and snuggled back into him. "Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a bedhead on our hands."

"There's nothing wrong with that." He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.

"I could get used to this, you know."

'I'm counting on it,' he though.

xXx

Later that morning, after they had gotten up and dressed, Marie called Ororo to check in. Thankfully, neither of the people they were avoiding answered the phone.

"So how is everything?"

"It's ok, they got here a while after you left, and you know, it was just weird. I still can't believe they're here again, after so long. But anyway...how are you guys?"

"We're fine, I met Scott's aunt. She's quite a character."

"Have you two finally realized how much you love each other and started having crazy sex yet?"

"'Ro! I can't believe... you don't think!"

Ororo laughed at Rogue's stumbling. "Oh please. Like there's any other reason you two are off hiding for the weekend. You could have avoided Logan and Jean here, you know. I see the hidden agenda. Scott takes you away to make passionate love to you while the rest of us sit around pretending to be happy to see Jean again."

"That's not what's going on here and you know it. We're just getting away, neither of us wanted to be there when they got there. It was just to soon. We didn't go away to..."

"Fine then answer me this. Did you sleep in different beds last night?"

Marie nervously twisted the phone cord around her finger, and her hesitation was all the answer Ororo needed. "I give it until tomorrow morning." She paused. "Um, I have to go. I'll talk to you later." Then in a whisper, "It's Logan, I have to run!"

She hung up and chuckled, shaking her head. Ororo really thought Logan couldn't hear her? She bounced down the stairs in a much better mood than the night before. Had he really brought her here in the hopes of something more than friendship?

Well, a girl could wish, couldn't she?

Meanwhile, Scott was downstairs arguing with his meddlesome aunt.

"Aunt Cass, I did not bring her here as anything more as a friend."

"Well why not? She's adorable, and she can't be younger than 20."

"She's eighteen."

"Really? Well, there's nothing wrong with that."

"I know. It would be completely fine. It just isn't like that."

"If you say so. Anyway, here she comes so you two better get going. I'll see you at dinner."

As she went off to tend to business, Marie met Scott at the front door. "Ready?"

"Yeah, let's go. 'Ro says hello by the way."

"Did she say anything else?"

With a mysterious smile, she replied, "Not really. She had to get off the phone fast."

"Well, what do you want to do first?"

"Let's go down to the river. It's pretty hot out there, it'll be cooler by the water."

They found a shady, grassy spot by the water and sat down. In a comfortable silence, Marie tossed a few pebbles into the river before lying back and closing her eyes. Scott let his eyes rove over her body while she couldn't see him. "Tell me more about where you grew up."

She smiled lazily. "It was so warm there. That's what I loved most. The weather." She reached up and pulled on his collar until he lay back on the soft grass. "Some days it got so hot that my mama and I would walk around in our swim suits. Just hang out in barely anything." He smiled at that. A far cry from Alaska.

"I miss it," she sighed.

"Do you want to go back?"  
She shrugged. "I can't go home. My parents tried to be supportive, but after it leaked out that I was a mutant…it became harder for them. Their oldest friends suddenly judged them."

She turned and looked at him. "What about you? How did you end up at Xavier's?"

"It was Jean actually. Xavier brought her with him when he came to my grandparents' house. The professor made a convincing argument for me coming to New York, but it was Jean who took me aside and told me how wonderful it would be. I was smitten."

Rogue plucked a dandelion from the grass and twirled it between her fingers. "You've loved her a long time." Scott didn't answer except to shrug, so she spoke the words she saw written across his face. "I know it's still raw and I know it still hurts." She tried to gather courage to speak her heart, taking a breath and exhaling slowly. "But I'm sticking around, okay?"

He turned and faced her, a brow creased and one side of his mouth turned handsomely upward. "Better than okay, Marie." He reached a hand up to her face and grazed his fingertips over her hair. "You think I can touch you?"

She bit her lip and rolled onto her back, uncomfortable suddenly. "I think it's off for you. I still don't know how, I think it might be a trust thing. It's still dangerous, though and I don't want to experiment when it still could be on…"

She gasped and fell silent as his thumb made contact with the strip of exposed skin between her jeans and shirt, under her navel. He waited tentatively for any strange sensation, but when none came, he smiled and looked to her face. She wasn't breathing, and hadn't looked away from his hand.

"Are we safe?"

She choked back a sob and nodded, then slowly, fearfully reached her hand to his face and traced his bottom lip with her thumb reverently. "Oh Scott." It was all the permission he needed.

He kissed her, and knew he was on his way to falling in love.

xXx

Back at the mansion, Logan and Jean's return had gone unnoticed by most of the residents. It wouldn't be until late Saturday that their presence would begin the usual gossip.

Hank had stolen Jean away soon after she arrived; wanting to talk shop with the doctor he had heard so much about. Logan however, found himself prowling the halls looking for something to do. He happened upon Charles' office, where the professor was up late going over applications for new students. Among those less repulsed by the idea of their children being mutants, Xavier's school was known as a great opportunity for young people.

Logan ambled in unannounced, and without looking up, the professor asked, "What can I do for you Logan?"

"I can't find Rogue."

"Presumably, that's because she isn't here."

"Well then where is she? Out with friends?"

"You could say that."

"How is she Chuck?" His gruff demeanor softened as he inquired after the girl who he had promised to look after.

"You wouldn't have to be asking me that if you had called her once since you left. But since you're asking now, I'd be happy to inform you that Rogue has become a very successful young woman. She's going off to college in the fall."

"She's leaving?"

"She'll be close, in New York. We're all very proud of her; she's pulled herself out of tragedy most people her age would never even understand. She's also become quite a favorite around here."

"A favorite what?"

"Woman, friend, student. She has many friends. She is quite loved. She's happy."

"She's certainly happier here then she would have been with me."

"I don't doubt it. I believe that the best thing you could have ever done for her was leave."

"Ouch, Chuck. That's a little harsh."

"Let's not wind around the truth, Logan. At least Jean knew who you were when she decided on you. Rogue would have always had a hero complex where you're concerned. If you had wanted her to, she would have followed you. She would have blindly chosen to spend her life with you."

Logan sighed, "I know, I know. But she was just a child. She had a lot of growing up to do."

"She's done growing up, Logan. Any chance you had with her is gone. She is…exploring alternatives." He said with a grin. "Anyway, she'll be back tomorrow. You can talk to her then. I'm going retire for the evening. Goodnight Logan, and welcome back."

"Thanks Chuck." After he left, Logan sat in Xavier's office for some time, thinking about the girl he left behind.

She was so young. He was so old. She had her whole life ahead of her and didn't need him slowing her down. It would have never worked. Jean was better for him anyway. These were the arguments he had made over and over in his head since he left, but none of them were convincing enough to drive the guilt out of his heart. He abandoned her. It was probably for her own good, but he had still hurt her, and he intended to make things right. Just as soon as he saw her again.


	4. Chapter 3

Marie woke well before dawn on Sunday morning, and in the darkness she felt his hold on her tighten as she stirred awake. She blinked sleepily, adjusting to the moonlight in their room, and the remnants of her dream faded out of her memory.

Her mouth was dry and she felt vaguely unclean. Sometime before darkness had fallen the evening before, they had given into exhaustion after hours of lovemaking. Now her internal clock was off kilter and she was wide-awake in the middle of the night. Luckily, the quaintness of this particular establishment did not lend itself to blaringly red electric alarm clocks or loud electric heating. The logs in the fireplace had burned to ashes hours ago and the moonlight did not penetrate the curtains enough to illuminate the face of the analog clock on the nightstand. Without any knowledge of what time it was, and in a mostly unoccupied wing of the inn, Marie felt completely cut off from the outside world. Thoughts of the mansion, of Logan and Jean, of her contemporary lit reading, those thoughts had no place here. For the moment, she was content feeling a little grimy and overheated if it meant being in his arms with no worries.

Scott was snoring lightly. She thought it was a nice sound, not too loud anyway, and though it might be something that would annoy her in the future, she savored it like she savored all the new experiences of the past twenty-four hours. He had a beautiful body, and had used it beautifully last night. She had always suspected if she managed to see him in the nude he would exceed her expectations, but last night as he had lounged back against the pillows, without a stitch of clothing and without any strategically placed sheets, he had looked like a magnificently sculpted Greek god brought deliciously to life just for her.

She had never felt as loved before. To her, the safest place in the world was here in his arms, where she wanted to stay forever. Last night had felt like permanence, like long-term familiarity. Marie frowned, suddenly worried at their timing. Could they be rushing things? Was Scott just hurt at Jean's return that he had reached out for her for comfort? Was that all this was? Good friends falling into bed when they both needed to forget?

As if in response to her worries, Scott nuzzled his face into her hair and sighed her name in his sleep. Marie. She relaxed, feeling silly for doubting him. It was her name on his lips, and she was the one in his dreams, in his bed.

She turned carefully, in his arms, and he stirred. She watched his features as he settled again, their noses mere inches apart. Wriggling an arm free, she traced the line of his jaw slowly and whispered his name. "Scott?"

He hummed in reply, a questioning sound, but not quite lucid. She tried again to peacefully wake him by sinking her fingers into his hair and caressing his neck with her thumb. His brows furrowed. He yawned and finally looked at her through his ruby goggles, grinning lazily.

"Hey."

"Hey." She bit her lip and looked up at him through her eyelashes, embarrassed all of a sudden at her nudity and their…proximity.

"You okay?"

She nodded, bending her leg up to lock her ankle around his leg. "I was just…bored."

"Bored?" He smiled, amused.

"Yep. Bored. And with you asleep, there wasn't much…to do."

"I see," he chuckled. "Well, I was just a little exhausted with the past eight hours of…doing."

"Don't worry. I've thought of some things to do to get you up, so to speak."

He laughed and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him. "I'm sure you have."

xXx

In a dark corner of the gardener's shed, Ororo stood on tiptoe reaching for a spade that was sitting on a shelf just out of reach. The footstool had gone mysteriously missing, and the weather goddess had never felt too short for anything in her life before. She hopped up a little, still missing but refusing to jump around like a flailing lunatic.

"Need a hand?" Came a rumbling voice from the doorway. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.

"No. Thank you," she replied curtly.

"Well maybe you'd just like your ladder back then."

She turned and saw that he was holding the missing instrument. She took it from him without meeting his gaze, unfolding it to climb up and get the misplaced hand trowel.

"I borrowed it to fix a broken rain spout."

"I didn't ask." Why wouldn't he leave?

Logan ignored her. "Funny thing. The Professor would have asked your Fearless Leader, but he seems to be MIA. That normal?"

Ororo turned, and gave him an accusatory glare. "Don't you mean, 'Has Scott been so devastated by you stealing his fiancée that he disappears for months at a time?' No Logan. Scott is just as reliable as he always has been. He's away for the weekend. He's also doing quite well. Thank you for your inquiry." She brushed past him and headed for the greenhouse, but he followed.

"I was just asking, 'Ro."

"You weren't just anything Logan. You shouldn't be here."

"Fine. I'll leave you alone. I can tell when I'm not wanted."

She turned and faced him again, fuming. "Can you? Really Logan? Then why are you here? Why now? What in the heavens could you possibly be doing back here?"

He put his hands on his hips and stood against her reproving glare. "I have information for the professor. Besides, this place isn't yours to guard over. We're all welcome here."

"If this trip is business related, you're right, you are welcome. I can only hope it is brief." She took a step closer to him and pointed a finger in his face. "If this trip is about flaunting Jean in front of Scott, though, you might as well just leave now."

She stalked off, leaving him standing angrily in the middle of the driveway, which is where he was still standing when Scott and Marie pulled up a moment later.

In the car, the mood shifted when Logan came into view. Marie groaned and sunk into her seat. "Aw shit."

"I'll second that." Scott pulled into the garage and turned off the motor. They both got out and went around to the trunk to retrieve their bags.

Logan had followed them into the garage though, and Marie's stomach felt tight when she realized he was headed over to talk to them.

He eyed them strangely as Marie nervously turned to greet him and Scott stayed busy unloading the trunk.

"Hey kid."

She scoffed at his words. "Hi, Logan. When did you come back?"

"Just Friday." He wasn't looking at her though; he was staring at Scott, who moved to stand right behind her. Unchallenging, but clear. Marie felt trapped, stuck in this sick triangle. She looked for her escape.

"Well, I'm beat. I guess I'll see you at dinner." She grabbed her duffle and made to leave, turning to see if Scott was following. "Scott?" Neither man seemed to hear her. They were sizing each other up, and Logan had a cocky grin on his face. He looked at her, then back to Scott and shook his head. He leaned in and muttered to Scott, thinking Marie was out of earshot.

"What, Cike, being with one woman who was in love with me wasn't enough? You hate yourself enough to go after another?"

Scott reacted, but not as quickly as Marie. In one quick motion, she dropped her bag, pulled back her arm, and sucker punched Logan square across the jaw.

As soon as the satisfaction of seeing Logan stagger off balance and grab his jaw in shocked pain subsided, Marie remembered her hand and hissed in a breath and shook her bruised knuckles.

"Motherfucker!"

"Marie, are you okay?"

"Jesus, kid! What the hell was that?"

She stood with fire in her eyes, rubbing her hand. "That was your welcome home, Logan. That may have hurt me more than your stupid metal head, but don't think I didn't enjoy it." She took a step until she was nose to nose with him, and though she wasn't near as tall as he was, he still leaned back when she approached. "You just lost the privilege of speaking to Scott. You even look at him the wrong way and I'm sure he'll blast your ass into next week, and guess what? After you pick your sorry ass out of the debris, you'll have me to deal with. I don't think Jean would appreciate me personally removing a few key parts of yours that aren't protected by that handy adamantium. So I would _suggest_ backing the fuck off."

With a fierce flip of her hair, she turned and left, the click of her heels signaling the end of this particular conversation.

xXx

Scott headed straight for his room, knowing he would find her there. Once inside, he dropped their bags on the ground he shrugged off his jacket and lay down on the bed next to her. They sat in silence for a moment, sprawled out and reeling from the encounter. Finally Scott broke the silence.

"Is it wrong that I'm completely turned on right now?"

She burst out laughing and he followed suit. They lay there giggling like idiots until Marie sat up and pulled him to his feet. "Come on." She disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, when she came back he could hear the bath water running. She made quick work of the buttons on his shirt and yanked it off, along with his t-shirt, and his belt, all while pulling him towards the bathroom. He finally caught up and yanked up on her top, forcing her arms up over her head. Once her shirt was off, he kept her arms up with a hand, and together they bumped into the wall next to the bathroom door. He kissed her, and she felt the tension that had would up her insides about Logan just uncoil.

When he stepped back and broke the kiss, she gave him a brilliant smile. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked, confused.

"Calm me down by throwing me against a wall and kissing me?"  
He smiled back, and grabbed her by her belt loops, unbuttoning her jeans and sliding them over her hips.

Once divested of their clothes, Marie tested the water in the tub with her hand, and when it was deemed hot enough, she ushered him in. She followed, daintily climbing in, but he grabbed her into his lap and sloshed water everywhere. She giggled and slid down his body, landing with her bottom on his legs. He smoothed back her hair with wet fingers and held her tight around her waist. She kissed him on the nose, and when he looked into her eyes he saw love. He saw what she felt but couldn't say yet. He saw their future.

They stayed in until they became wrinkled, exploring and laughing, kissing and touching. He finally dragged her out, wrapping her in a towel and putting her to bed.

They forgot dinner that night.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N: As always, keep in mind that is where I put my rough drafts. I publish final copies on my site. Where is that site, you ask? Well, I'll let you know once I finish a fic.

Reviews rock my world. Not even kidding, for like three days after I put anything new up, I compulsively check for them. Light up my day with a nice review, pretty please?

xXx

Logan was prowling, and nursing his hurt pride. Everywhere he went there were whispers and students in groups discussing their return. Dumb kids thought he couldn't hear them. He could hear all right. These kids were doing a lot of talking on things

they knew nothing about.

Tired of being around people, he wandered to a wing of the mansion usually unoccupied. On the top floor, tucked away in a corner hall, there was a cluster of bedrooms, the farthest ones from the common areas of the mansion. Logan had wandered up here before, but had rarely smelled other people. Tonight though, He could smell Marie. And Summers.

He followed their scent to a room tucked in the corner, curiosity overcoming his sense to leave. When he quietly approached the door, unabashedly trying to eavesdrop, he wasn't prepared to hear Marie's low pleading moans. He jumped back from the door as if hit. Suspecting Summers being involved with Marie was one thing. Catching them in the act was another.

He hurried off to the danger room, angrier at Scott than he had ever been over Jean.

xXx

Hours later, Marie lay wide-awake in bed with a sleeping Scott Summers beside her. It was good to be home, even if the mansion did have a bit of a pest problem. She grinned, thinking of the astonished look on Logan's face when she had clocked him in the head. It wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

Carefully, she lifted Scott's arm and crawled out of bed. She dressed silently, yanking on her jeans and his white undershirt instead of searching in the dark for her own clothes. She wouldn't admit it even to herself, but on some level she hoped she would see Logan, and delight at his face as he smelled Scott's scent all over her. In the hall, she padded on bare feet downstairs and to the kitchen. She stopped outside the doorway.

Jean sat at the counter with a glass of water and a book. She didn't look up or acknowledge Marie's presence, but she could probably sense her there. Marie couldn't exactly run and maintain any shred of dignity, so she took a deep breath and entered the room.

Jean looked up, but her face remained emotionless. "Hi," she muttered, watching warily as Marie retrieved the teapot and began filling it with water.

Marie tried to unclench the knot in her stomach. "Welcome back."

Jean chuckled somewhat mirthlessly. "Really?"

Marie tried to smile, but when it just came out as a wince, she sighed. "No. Not really." She put the pot on the range and turned on the gas. She busied herself with making toast, at a complete loss as to what to say to the woman. As she twisted the loaf of bread closed and set it down on the counter, she saw that her hand was shaking. Jean noticed too, even though Marie began a flurry of activity to mask her unease.

"I'm not sure I know why you would be nervous around me." Jean's voice remained neutral, annoyingly non-threatening. It would be easier to handle a bitch. If Jean was going to approach this in an Adult Manner, so could she.

"I'm not nervous." Denial. Good start.

Jean decided not to press the issue. She went back to not really reading her book and Marie went back to not really waiting for her toast.

"I'm not nervous."

Jean looked at her carefully. "Alright."

"I'm angry." Marie forcefully drummed her fingers on the counter and didn't look at her. "I'm angry and I am trying not to fly off the handle. I'm not nervous."

The tea began to whistle and the toast popped up, so Marie continued to busy herself while avoiding Jean's piercing glare.

"Angry." Jean watched Marie passive aggressively spread jam on her toast.

"Yes." Marie poured her tea and took the seat directly opposite of Jean.

When Jean realized Marie wasn't fleeing the scene, she slowly closed her book and pushed it aside, along with her glasses. The two women studied each other a moment before Jean spoke. "I'm sorry."

Marie took a bite of her toast and asked innocently, "What for?" She refused to cut her any slack.

"For whatever it is that I did to you. I know that feelings were hurt by our leaving."

Marie snorted. "Don't apologize if you don't believe you did anything wrong. It doesn't strike me as very genuine. And don't mince words. Just because you equivocate and use the passive voice to avoid sounding guilty, I don't have to be convinced you really care. And besides, you didn't do anything to me."

Jean looked at her as if she had just spoken in another language. "But I thought that…"

Marie sighed and cut her off. "I don't care about Logan, okay? You broke Scott's heart when you left. You have no idea what it was like for us. You got to hop into Logan's truck and ride off into the sunset while we picked up the pieces." Marie was astonished at how collected she was. Her voice was even, her tone calm.

Jean looked stunned. After a moment, enlightenment seemed to dawn on her. "So you've been in love with Scott all this time? You didn't care about Logan?"

Carefully setting her teacup down, Marie took a deep breath and began, in a very condescending manner. "I haven't loved Scott all this time. Love takes time. Real love, anyway. The kind that lasts. Lust, on the other hand, is immediate. It's impulsive. Kind of like leaving your fiancée for a man you know nothing about."

"I love Logan." Jean had not been prepared to defend herself to a teenager.

"Fine," Marie countered, "then you should have no problem leaving with him. Soon." Marie stood and put her dishes in the sink, turning to leave.

"He thinks about you." It was muttered and unclear, and she could have misheard. She turned and looked at Jean, who looked sad suddenly.

"Excuse me?"

Jean cleared her throat and looked down. "Logan. He thinks about you a lot."

Marie chuckled. A little annoyed sound at first, but then she was really laughing, utterly amused at Jean's words. "This is rich," she broke out between fits. She approached the counter and leaned on it, still giggling a little, looking at Jean expectantly. "What, that's it? You aren't going to tell me he's said my name in his sleep? That you feel lonely even when you're with him? Come on girl, once more with feeling!"

Jean just looked at her, unsure of how to proceed.

Marie shook her head sadly. "So when false apologies don't work, you try to make me empathize with your situation? You figure if I could sympathize with anyone it would be with a woman fighting for Logan's attention. Nice try. I told you, I don't care about him." Something flashed in Marie's eyes that made Jean tense up. "I'm not interested in being your friend. And I'm hoping you'll leave just as quickly as you did before. But if you plan on stayin' hear this: I am not about to sit back and watch you hurt him again. I have spent too long helping him heal to let you come and do it all over again. This time around, he's got someone who loves him and will fight for him. And I'm sure as hell not walkin' out on him."

Jean sat, immobilized, as the spitfire known as Rogue calmly left the kitchen, as if putting her lover's ex-fiancées in their place was something she did every night after dinner.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N: Review!!! Let me know what you like and don't like! Leave me awesome reviews and I swear I'll write faster. Come on…more than a line! I'm begging!

That aside, thank you for all your support on this story. It's just getting started, so you know. Next chapter will have a nice juicy plot twist. Til then, happy reading!

xXx

Marie and Ororo were scouring Westchester for extra long twin bedding. Scott was bored.

He had a desk full of paperwork and lesson plans to work on before the fall semester started, but he had been putting it all off in the hopes that it would extend the summer that much longer. Marie would be leaving once fall began.

They still had not discussed what was going on between them. It had been more than two weeks since their weekend away. During the day, they were professional and decidedly unromantic. Marie met daily with the professor to work on her newfound control, and Scott conducted the business of the mansion.

When night fell, they slid easily into intimacy. Marie was still nervous about her control while she slept, but Scott knew that if her control was born of trust, he could not allow her to feel uncomfortable about sleeping with him. When his assurances of safety left her worried still, he stole her pajamas and refused to let her sleep with him unless she was naked. She had laughed and thanked him for his faith in her with her very talented mouth.

Logan and Jean were wisely maintaining a distance. No plans had been made for long-term accommodations for the couple, but Logan had been speaking to the professor in private often. Jean spent much of her days conversing with Hank about advances in their fields and new equipment for the lab.

On this morning, it seemed everyone was out and about, so Scott did not expect to bump into Logan in the locker room, getting changed for a run in the Danger Room.

Logan eyed him warily, not wanting to start a fight, but ready for one if Scott pushed. Scott gave him an appraising look and turned to open his locker.

The two men dressed in silence until Scott spoke up.

"You sticking around long, Logan?" His tone was icy even if his words sounded harmless.

Logan chuckled. "Just long enough to get under your skin a bit, One-Eye."

Scott slammed the locker door shut. "You're not bothering me, Logan. I'd just like to know when things are going back to normal."

"Relax. The good doctor will be back in your arms in no time." Logan shoved open the door angrily and left Scott speechlessly standing behind. He yanked his sweatshirt over his head and followed him out.

"What do you mean?"

Logan ignored him and hit a few buttons on the keypad on the wall, opening the round sliding door and escaping into the Danger Room. Scott's interest was peaked though, and he followed, not thinking off the danger of a pissed off Wolverine in a room meant for battle.

Logan turned on his heel when he realized Scott wasn't backing off. "You looking for a fight?"

Scott crossed his arms over his chest and glared. "I'm looking for answers. Are you leaving without Jean?" Logan growled a warning, but Scott ignored him. "I think I deserve to know."

Time stretched for a moment, neither approaching the other nor backing down. The room was dim. Logan looked dangerous in the dark, but Scoot wasn't about to cower in fear.

"Yeah, Scooter. I'm leaving. Without Jean."

Scott exhaled sharply, almost a laugh if it hadn't sounded so spiteful. "So what, you're finished with her? Tossing her back where she came from? Moving on to your next victim?"

Logan shrugged, grinning. "Maybe Marie wants to finally take that trip to Alaska."

Even with his lightning fast reflexes, Logan didn't see Scott reach up and click on his ruby glasses. In a quick flash of red light, Logan's stomach was torn open and he was thrown twenty feet backwards into the opposite wall. He coughed and gaped for breath as his lungs rebuilt themselves and his skin wove itself over his shredded intestines.

Scott remained still, even as Logan stood unsteadily, covered in blood and gore. "Jesus Fucking Christ, Summers."

Evenly, Scott spoke. "You don't get to talk to me about Marie. You don't get to act like this is all some joke. You broke your promise to look out for her. And you broke her heart."

Logan closed the distance between them and backed Scott against the wall, grabbing a handful of his shirt and shoving him into the wall, Scott's head hitting the hard panel with a sickening thud.

"Don't you think I know, Summers? Don't you think I fucking know she's yours now? I can smell you all over her."

Logan breathed heavily, looking disgusted, and for a moment Scott wondered if he would actually kill him. The fierce glint in Logan's eyes led him to believe it was a distinct possibility. Scott just stared, his arms pinned to his chest, unable to do anything but wait for a punch, a toss, something. But Logan let him go, stepped back and exhaled angrily.

"I should have guessed Jean wasn't gonna hang around Canada forever." He shrugged. "It was only a few weeks before I started smelling other men on her."

Scott sighed. As much of an incredible ass Logan was, he was still an ass who had just been betrayed. Scott certainly knew how that felt.

"Shit."

"Yeah. I didn't come back to completely fuck with your head, Summers. Jean wanted to go home." He chuckled mirthlessly, "To you, I guess. When Ororo told her about you and Marie…" He didn't finish his thought.

Scott figured he knew how she had reacted. Jean had always been territorial. Her timing was just unbelievable. Everything was such a mess. Logan wasn't completely to blame. It was certainly easier to blame him, but Jean had played her part too.

Scott gave him a conciliatory shrug. "I'm not sorry about that. You knew what Jean was like when you left."

Logan growled. "Well I'm not sorry she left your ass either."

"I don't want to fight you. Well, I mean, I do." Scott almost laughed. "But there's no reason to. No matter what happens between us, we're still…a team. You're still one of us. None of us can afford to make enemies with our own kind right now. "

Scott, his head aching, left Logan to mull over the thought.

xXx

He waited for her in her room, comfortable among the things that decorated her space. Her room wasn't pristine- it gave off the feeling of controlled chaos. Her clothes weren't lying on the floor, but they were spilling out of drawers and draped over furniture. Picture frames and adolescent memorabilia had taken over her shelves and her books were forced into piles on her nightstand and on her desk. The pictures and knickknacks were of the happy times she had spent with friends at Xavier's. She and Jubilee and Kitty posing _Charlie's Angels_ style in absurd outfits in the dressing room of some store. She and John on a roller coaster mid descent, their frantic screams caught on camera forever. Marie, pink tongue out in tipsy concentration as she aimed the little white ball for a red solo cup at the other end of the mansion's ping pong table, Bobby and Jubilee cheering her on in the blurry background.

These pictures could belong to a human girl. He was so grateful that she fit in well at the institute and that her control allowed her even more normality. He was so grateful she had stayed.

Scott was still standing there moments later when Marie came through her open door, arms laden with shopping bags. Her eyes lit up when she saw him there.

"Hey! We just got in." She unceremoniously dumped her bags on the floor and kicked off her sandals. "Ro helped me find everything I need, so I think I'm all set room-wise, but jeez! She doesn't stop for anything. Nothing gets between her and a sale!" She gave him a peck on the lips in hello, but he deepened it. She gave a surprised little moan at his tongue's forceful entry into her mouth, but did not resist. When she reached up his neck and grabbed his hair, he hissed in a breath, winced and her hand stilled.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head, but his pain was evident. She fell into maternal mode. "Are you hurt? Do you need ice?"

Scott ignored her worries and kissed her again, pulling her hips flush against his. . "I don't need ice." He spoke between leaving a trail of kisses along her throat. "I need you."

There was nothing romantic in his expression, only intense desire. His lips were parted; his breathing was shallow. His voice, low and gruff. She didn't need seducing, seeing him like this. So she pulled away from him long enough to smile wickedly at him, reach under her long, pale pink skirt, and slowly shimmy out of her panties. She tossed the slip of lace at his feet and said innocently, "Then take me."

He had her up against the heavy oak door before she could gasp in surprise. He kissed her furiously and deeply, making her dizzy with lust. She grabbed his arms and realized his muscles were flexed. All of him seemed on high alert. He wanted her right now. So, she helped him along. She reached her hands down between them and unbuttoned his pants, unzipping them slowly, just to get him more riled up. When he met her eyes and saw the playfulness there, he growled at her and swatted her hands away, finishing the job she started and kicking his pants off.

She met his enthusiasm by pulling him closer with one leg wrapped around his. He ground into her hips and she shuddered at the feel of him through the light cotton. She was pretty sure they were about to have hot, needy sex against the wall, and her heart was racing in anticipation.

"What do you want, Marie?"

She moaned as he ground into her again. She moaned in response and breathed out, "You, Scott. I want you." She met his ruby encased gaze, her vision hazy with arousal.

They were breathing each other's air.

She frantically freed his hard length and wrapped her hand around him, squeezing lightly. His head dropped to her clavicle and he wrapped his hands around her backside and lifted her up, pinning her against the door at her back. She wrapped her legs around him and guided him between her slick folds. He slid into her easily, burying himself to the hilt and moaning out his relief. She grasped desperately at his back, feeling his muscles shudder under her fingers.

"Oh Scott," she moaned against his lips. "Fuck me."

He responded immediately, pulling back and thrusting back harder. She sought out his lips and kissed him deeply. With each hard thrust, she felt him deep in her belly. He was hitting her in all the right places.

She was lost in him, his hips against hers, his tongue darting across hers, his strong arms around her, under her. In only a moment's time she was splintering apart, coming hard. She broke their kiss and cried out, a desperate sound, but he was relentless. He drove into her and she ground against him, drawing out her own orgasm, moaning out his name. It was all he needed. His head fell to her shoulder, tasting her skin and shuddering against her.

Every muscle in her body tensed and spasmed. Her legs were locked in a death grip around him.

They came together.

He carried her to bed, gently laying her down and wrapping himself around her. They were still dressed, so he didn't bother with a blanket as he collapsed next to her, pulling her close. Except for their ragged breathing, they were quiet for a long time.

"I'm sorry," regret was etched in his voice.

She gave his leg a squeeze. "Shut up."

"I was…I was too…"

She caught his hand and kissed his knuckles. "Shut up." She laced their fingers together against her stomach.

Moments later, he asked, "Marie?"

"Mmm?"

"Promise me something?" His voice nearly cracked.

She hummed contentedly. "Of course."

He paused for a moment, finally finding the words. "When….if you don't….want me…anymore, will you tell me? Instead of…" He trailed off, not saying what they both knew.

She didn't placate him with assurances of their everlasting love. She knew he needed to know she wouldn't break his already fragile heart. So she sat up and faced him, looking at him before nodding, and replying "I promise."

To reassure him further though, she added, "But just so you know, if you can manage a repeat performance of _that_?" She jerked her chin towards her newly-christened door. "Sugah, you won't be able to pry me off of you with a crowbar."

He finally smiled, and she kissed him, and though they didn't make it to the door, he did manage an encore.


End file.
